Turn
by Wijida
Summary: A tragedy...unexplained...has Captain Janeway turning to face the unknown...


Disclaimer: Voyager…well, it belongs to Paramount

Disclaimer: Voyager…well, it belongs to Paramount.

Turn 

By Manda (Mizuno Ami)

_I turn…_

My eyes grew wide at the sight before me- so many crewmen, so many of my family, crumpled on the deck, bodies cold in death. Oh, some were alive- one or two scattered throughout the corridor- but the chill in the air was enough to curdle ones blood. They were dead at the hand of some executioner that likely they had never seen, but it had snuck upon them like the unknowing plague of the black ages- quiet, deadly. I couldn't find the slightest record of anything occuring while I was gone…but a three day away mission—how could something so _hostile_ happen while I had my back turned for so short a time. The fault was my own…it lay on my own shoulders.

The steps behind me drew my attention from the bodies, and I let myself pivot to face those whom they belonged to.

"How did this happen?" Harry Kim- his face was drawn, haggard- not as youthful and eased as it had been in the past. It was disheartening to see him in the mournful atmosphere…and Tom Paris, B'Elanna Torres. Chakotay. All stood behind him- I thanked whatever deity I could that the Paris family, as new as they were, hadn't faced such misfortune as we uncovered at that moment. Chakotay was silent, mourning his colleagues as only he knew how- no doubt conversing with his spirit guide.

I certainly hoped that he had better luck with his gods than I was having with my own.

"There's no record." I heard Tuvok, spun to face him…but looked only into the eyes of Tom Paris, delivering the line that should have only belonged to Tuvok, as it was spoken with the rationality which Tuvok possessed and Tuvok commanded. He should have been there—his body was among the many casualties, and as I came to realize that, my throat constricted and I turned away. "Sensors aren't showing any sign of…anything. No anomalous readings, no energy surges…nothing, Captain."

"Are you sure? Could sensors have been affected somehow, by whatever did this?" Chakotay rebutted his statement- I could hear the sympathy and remorse in his tone…he knew I couldn't speak. Not yet. 

"Nothing." Now B'Elanna…she didn't need this, not with her baby…I spoke, back turned to them all, and I could detect anger in my own words, mixed with weakness, helplessness. I felt helpless, more than anything.

"There won't be anything. They're gone. All of them."

_I turned…_

__My eyes took in the rows- twenty, thirty…more…all organized rows of smooth black caskets, hurriedly replicated to encase the bodies of over one-hundred members of my family. When I thought about them…Naomi Wildman asking me about rescuing Seven of Nine. She'd concocted a plan 'all by herself', and was proud…so proud.I was proud of her for having the initiative, the ambition, the courage to bring the entire equation together. _"What do you see, Naomi?…"_

__"Captain?" It was Harry again…looking crisp in dress uniform, holding an unfurled blossom in his outstretched hands, petals of deep violet and pale yellow spreading over his widespread fingers. "There was one flower left in airponics."

"Thank you, Harry." He moved away and I stood alone at the head of the many aisles between each of the caskets, each of my crewmen who had died in the line of duty.The few remaining…oh, god, the few remaining…stood in their own row, solemn and reserved as they waited for the words to come that would make sense. Make the reason for their colleagues death become real, somehow. I couldn't bring myself to do it alone, and the flower sat in my palms, rejuvinating me.

"These people," Once my lips parted, the words flowed. They flowed as swiftly as my crew had operated, and as I knew we would survive without them. "These people were more than just _people_. They weren't people we'd met on the street, weren't people we hadn't gotten to know. We knew them all, each of them, as deeply as we knew ourselves- because we all shared the common goal. To get home, to tell our people that we were trying. They all tried- Ensign Vorik, Tal Celes…Tuvok." My voice wanted to crack…I inhaled, deeply…and moved on. 

"They were individuals, from Seven of Nine to Mortimer Harron. On Voyager's first day out, I remember sitting in the ready room, scanning my list of new crewmembers. Harry Kim, a prodigy..your parents called me, Harry, worried about you.There were extensive files, and from that day I vowed I would know every single face, speak every single name more than once."I chose the lucky ones", Napoleon once said of his appointed men. I didn't only choose the lucky ones…I was lucky _because_ I chose them. Luck is what you make it, and I consider myself the luckiest individual in the Quadrant to have served with everyone who stands in this room with me."

_We turned…_

Collectively the group turned, myself in the lead, hands raised in salute to the fallen. Salute to the valor, the integrity of our family. They were gone, and we mourned as only a family could. 

Together.

-Fin


End file.
